Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit,
His waxen wings did mount above his reach,
And, melting, heavens conspir'd his overthrow;
For, falling to a devilish exercise,
And glutted now with learning's golden gifts,
He surfeits upon cursed necromancy;
Nothing so sweet as magic is to him,
Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss:
And this the man that in his study sits.
: Dr. Faustus (Marlowe)

Thursday, April 10, 2008

here's the look see

okay people, unless you're absolutely sure you won't throw up, don't open this link. these are pictures of me right before i was stitched up in the operation theatre. it's bloody and gory. my sincere apologies for ruining your day..